42.

[Chinaren]

By Chinaren.

[Chinaren]

Right!  I've done it!  The next chapter has been written! 

I'll post it later on, when I get back from work. 

[Chinaren]

The Story so far: Ian has awoken on a desert island after somehow surviving a horrific plane crash.  Stumbling through the jungle he meets Brad, and the two then discover a mysterious half buried structure. 
Leaving the thing unopened, they return to the beach and settle down to rest, but sometime in the night, Ian wakes.  Brad is nowhere to be seen…

~

“This really isn’t funny Brad,” said Ian, turning a full circle.  “I’m not amused.”  He squinted into the dark, making out a hundred shapes that, in his imagination, became lurking monsters.   

“Come on Brad you fucker!  Where are you?”  Receiving no response Ian bent down and tore a long strip of material off one of the blankets.  Then, crouching down at the glowing remains of the fire, he took one of the spare branches off the pile to the side and wrapped the cloth securely about the end.  Satisfied with his efforts he plunged the makeshift torch into the bonfire and waited until it caught.

Holding his new light out in front of him, he started up the beach towards the ominous jungle, eyes and ears alert for any sight or sound that could be construed as being out of place.  Behind him the surf fizzed up the shore, a sound somehow a lot less friendly than it had been during the day. 

Reaching the edge of the tree line, he peered forward and discovered the glare of his torch obscured everything ahead of him.  He held it back, behind his sight, and tried again, more successfully.

Nothing but trees. 

“Damn,” he scowled.  Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the jungle and was immediately beset by insects. 

“Arg!  Gettofme you disgusting things!”  He flapped his arms around and nearly dropped the torch.   After a few minutes of futile waving, he gave up and marched steadfastly onwards again.  The insects fell away slightly, leaving only some persistent mosquitoes buzzing around his head.

The jungle at night was no quieter than it was in the day.  Insects made strange rasping sounds, and other, unidentified, creatures rustled about in the undergrowth, thankfully keeping themselves to themselves. 

He’d just about started to relax when a flash of blinding white light lit up the night, reflecting off the canopy above.  It came from ahead and to the right, and he swung around to face it just as the sound arrived.  It was a low, echoing boom that rolled around the sky like thunder.  A sharper, shorter, sound immediately followed it. 

“That’s a girl screaming!” Ian declared to the jungle.  He hitched up his tattered pants and set his mouth in a determined squint.  “Another survivor!”

Thrusting aside he previous worries, he set off at a jog, running in the direction the flash had originated.  As he did so a suspicion began to form in his mind, but was cut off short by the sound of someone, or something, crashing about in the undergrowth ahead. 

He drew up sharply, and then watched as a young girl ran out of the bush directly towards his position.  She stopped in panic when she saw him, falling back onto her behind and scrabbling away.

“It’s okay,” Ian said.  “I won’t hurt you.  Are you from the crash?”

The girl, she couldn’t have been more then ten or eleven, drew herself up into a ball and didn’t reply, though she followed his movement with wide eyes that glinted in the torchlight.

“I won’t hurt you,” Ian repeated, stepping forward slowly.  “Are you hurt? Hungry?  I’ve food back on the beach.”  He squatted down a few paces from the trembling figure.  “What was that light?  What did you see?”

The girl remained silent.

“My name’s Ian,” he said.  “Do you speak English?  Ian.”

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, and he thought he saw her relax slightly. 

“What’s your name? Can you tell me?”  Looking more closely, Ian realized the girl was quite dirty.  Her hair was a tangled mass, with bits of branch and leaf embedded in it.  Her feet were bare and the dress she was wearing worn and ragged. 

“What’s your name?” he repeated, edging forward a little more.

Slowly the girl leaned forward and, with a finger that was desperately in need of a wash, wrote a wobbly ‘A’ in the dirt between them.

“A?” Ian said.  He waited for her to write more, but apparently that was it.  He nodded.  “Very well, you’re A.  Hello A.”

She smiled.

“Making progress,” he muttered.  “A, can you tell me what that light was?”  He pointed in the direction of the explosion. 

She looked back at where he was pointing, and then seemed to understand.  Taking a handful of earth, she threw it up into the air and made an ‘explosion’ type of noise.

“Yes, the explosion,” Ian nodded. “What was it?”

She looked at him blankly.

Sighing he stood up again.  She flinched, but he put on a reassuring face and held out a hand.  “Come on, I need to see what it was. You can take me.”  He pointed.

After a few seconds, A stood up and, slowly, took his hand.  Smiling shyly at him.

He started to walk again, the girl, A, trotting beside him.  Now she was closer, and standing up, he wondered if she had come off the plane.  Her dress looked old and worn, the damage seemed to be simple age, not rips from the accident.  He frowned.  One more mystery.

The jungle began to thin, and A pulled back a little, walking behind him.  Feeling slightly braver now he had company, even if it was a young girl, Ian kept moving until he finally emerged from the trees and back out onto the grassy hillside that he’d seen earlier. 

A little distance away was a large crater.  Scattered all around it were black chunks.  He approached one and touched it with his toe.  Metal.  Black metal.

“This was my orb,” he said.

Walking carefully, he made his way to the crater and peered down, holding his dwindling torch high. 

At the bottom of the hole, resting upon the base of the orb, was a small box.  It appeared totally unharmed. 

“Strange,” he said, and started to scramble down. 

A made a frantic noise and tried to pull him back, but he simply smiled at her and patted her arm. 

“Don’t worry A, I’m just going to have a look.” 

Pulling himself free of her grasp, he slid down and knelt down in front of the box. 

The container seemed to be made of some smooth material, maybe wood.  It was a little hard to see in the dark.  There was no apparent catch or lock, but he could see a hairline crack two thirds of the way up.  It was just about big enough to hold an egg. 

“Mmm.”  Reaching forward he touched the surface, and then jumped in shock as the lid sprang open.  He scrambled back slightly, but stopped when nothing further happened.  “Curiouser and curiouser,” he mumbled, and leaned forward to peer inside.


>>>>>>

Hurrah!  I can still write things!  I’d almost forgotten how. 

Anyway, the Suggestion Phase here is an obvious one I think.  What does he see in the box??

Let’s hear your ideas, and sorry for the… ahem, slight delay in writing this chapter.

Also, ideas for where A could have come from are also welcome!

<<<<<<

[Chinaren]

Anyone have anything?

[NicTei]

There's a stack of dirty magazines in the box, and while he's looking at them he suddenly realizes that there's a code hidden amongst the faces in the pictures.

When he reads it off out loud, A does something weird.

[Angel]

A stack of expensive jewels, necklaces, bracelets etc that are full of precious stones. He tries to touch them but he gets electrocuted. He then sees a note saying what he has to do with said contents.

[Chinaren]

Ooh, two interesting ideas there, though the box, being 'just large enough to hold an egg' isn't really big enough for the magazines.  Still...  ~ponders~

Thanks guys.  

[Saint]

An egg.  The egg hatches later into something weird and abstract.

[Chinaren]

An egg.  The egg hatches later into something weird and abstract.

Ohh!  Another good one Saint!

Anyway, the poll is up.  Cook the sausage of voting.

[Saint]

SAUSAGE!!  COOKED AND COOKED.

[Chinaren]

Wow, looks like we'll have an egg to go with those sausages. 

~Starts scraping Plotonium up~

[Rocket Rabbit]

Hmm... the mystery of who in Tome voted for the porn/code option?

 

[Chinaren]

I suspect the person who suggested it.   

[Chinaren]

Wow!  Five votes for egg!  Six votes in total, I think that's a new high for Tome!

I'll get cracking on this right soon.

[Chinaren]

The Story so far: Ian has awoken on a desert island after somehow surviving a horrific plane crash.  Stumbling through the jungle he meets Brad, and the two then discover a mysterious half buried orb like structure.  
Leaving the thing unopened, they return to the beach and settle down to rest, but sometime in the night, Ian wakes and finds Brad has disappeared.  
Going in search of his missing comrade, he runs in to a young girl who seems to be unable to speak.  Venturing further he encounters the remains of the orb, which has apparently exploded.  In the remaining crater is a small box…

~

“Sitting in the center of a tiny velvet cushion was what appeared to be a smooth black egg.  It was so black that he had trouble making it out, especially with his torch flickering and getting low. 

Cautiously reaching out, he touched the strange object with one finger, then jerked it back.  The thing was warm!

Casting caution to the wind, he probed again.  Not only was it warm, but it appeared to be vibrating. 

“This is very odd,” he said to himself.  “Maybe the explosion cooked it.”

Plucking up his courage, he lifted the object out of the box.  It was curiously heavy, like it was made from extra dense lead. 

Bringing it closer, Ian marveled at the thing.  It was totally smooth, smoother than anything he’d ever felt before.  He could barely feel it.  Yet despite this, and the weight , he  had no problem holding it.  In fact it felt somehow… right.  Somehow comforting.

“I shall name you Egbert,” he declared. 

Egbert seemed to hum with approval.

“And we shall be friends forever.”

Egbert split down the middle and fell in half. 

“Shit!” said Ian as the egg, for that was what it apparently was, revealed a pink colored worm thing. 

The worm, which was about as long as his little finger wriggled about, and he shook his hand in disgust.  “Get away you thing!”

The egg shell fell away, but the worm stayed where it was, in the middle of his outstretched palm, writhing about and sending strange tickling sensations up towards his shoulder.

“Stop it!  Fuck off!”  Ian snatched at it with his other hand and was momentarily relieved to see it had disappeared.  The relief lasted all of a second, as he spotted the worm hatchling crawling up his arm.

“Shit!  Fuck!”  He snatched at it, but it simply ignored him.  His efforts to grab it failed, fingers sliding off the creature like it was covered in oil. 

“Arg!  Get it off me!”  Rob danced about in the crater, whirling around in a frenzy as he tried in vain to shake the intruder loose.

“A!” he cried at the girl.  “A, get it off!”  The worm had reached his shoulder now.  The girl simply shrank back.

Ian, in desperation, grabbed his torched and jammed it towards his own face, succeeding in burning his neck. 

“Bugger!  Oh fuck!  Shitcuntfuck!”  The worm had crawled up the side of his head and was entering his ear.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHGGG!”  he said, calmly. 

Then everything went black.

~

“I think he’s coming around.”

Ian moaned.  The worlds’ most enormous pain had decided to set up home in his head, to the detriment of everything else in the vicinity. 

“Are you okay?”

Filtering through the hurt, an annoyingly unruffled voice made its way into his consciousness. 

“Hello?  Can you hear me?  Would you like breakfast?  I have eggs.”

The mention of eggs was too much.  Eyes still closed, Ian rolled over and vomited.

“Oh, that’s just gross,” came the voice of Brad.  “What the hell were you eating?  I’ve never since puke that color before.”

“Shut… Up,” said Ian through gritted teeth.  Every word echoed through is body like sharp glass. 

“So I can have your bacon then?” came the unconcerned reply.  “It’s just that I think it’s the last of it, and we probably won’t be getting any more until we’re rescued.  Unless there are any wild pigs on this island.”

Ian slumped back, causing ripples of agony to spread over his torso.

“Why am I here?” he moaned.

“Your parents probably had something to do with that,” Brad’s voice came back.  “Hey, your little girlfriend doesn’t speak much does she?”

Frowning, Ian attempted to review the most recent events in his memory.  Oh yes, the girl, A.  Oh, and the fucking pink worm thing! 

He sat up and promptly regretted it. 

After several minutes of dry heaves, he sat up again, more slowly this time, and peered around with blurry eyes.

He was sitting a short distance away from a campfire.  Watching him with concerned eyes was the girl from last night.  Also, with less concern, Brad, chewing on a rasher of bacon. 

“How’s it going?” the other man asked, in an unreasonably cheerful voice. 

Ian spat in the sand and put both hands in his head. 

“I gave your food to the girl,” Brad continued.  “She looked like she needed it.”

“Crglrtl,” croaked Ian, holding out a hand.

The girl scurried over and held out a bottle of water, which Ian used to rinse his mouth out.  He drank the rest, feeling only slightly less horrible.

“What happened?” he asked, once he felt capable of speech.

“I woke up in the night, felt the need for toilet,” answered Brad.  “Whilst I was busy in the bush there was some kind of explosion.  I went to investigate and found you in the middle of it, unconscious.  Your girlfriend was sitting by your side.”  He gestured at A.  “I dragged you back, tearing my jacket by the way, and dropped you back in your makeshift bed, which you’ve now fouled with regurgitation.”

“Oh,” said Ian.  He looked at A, who smiled.

“I think I also saw smoke coming from over that way,” Brad said, pointing.  “There may be more survivors.”

Ian’s battered brain finally caught up with recent events.  “You bastard!  You ate my bacon!”

 
>>>>>>

Okay then.  So what do they do now?  Do they just wait? Go back and explore the orb?  The smoke? Sit about and tell each other stories?  Go and find food?  Something else?

Let’s hear your ideas people!

<<<<<<

[Rocket Rabbit]

“You bastard!  You ate my bacon!”

 

Very good.

I'd go for the smoke. Seems the most obvious thing to do at a time like that. Ian seems incredibly unconcerned about the icky wiggly thing that just made its home in his brain, but then again, Brad did eat his bacon.

[Chinaren]

an seems incredibly unconcerned about the icky wiggly thing that just made its home in his brain, but then again, Brad did eat his bacon.

   Well, Ian's still waking up, and as you said, there's bacon missing. 

I've tweaked a couple of things in this chapter, as I was drunk when I wrote it and a few points were a bit... wibbly.

[Saint]

I'd say he tries to find out about whatever is in his ear.  Brad looks at him like an idiot and they go off in search of the smoke...  But he can see a sly grin that Brad just can't hide.  Muahaha.

[Chinaren]

But he can see a sly grin that Brad just can't hide. 

Sadistic Saint. 

I like it. 

[Thunderbird]

I've read the first chappy's C'ren... still tryin' ta get caught up on this one... I'll get there soon I think.

[Angel]

Brad knows something we don't and leads them off into the smoke. As they reach said smoke Ian goes into painful spasms. COS the wormy thing in his ear. Of course before all this Ian has a tussle with Brad over the half eaten rasher of bacon!  "My bacon!!!"
 

[Chinaren]

Brad knows something we don't and leads them off into the smoke. As they reach said smoke Ian goes into painful spasms. COS the wormy thing in his ear. Of course before all this Ian has a tussle with Brad over the half eaten rasher of bacon!  "My bacon!!!"
 

 

...and no worries TeeB.  This one's still fairly short.   

[Chinaren]

Well it looks like 'smoke' has it, though with various permutations along the way.

Any ideas what's at the smoke?   

[Saint]

... A pig.  Cooking.  And Obviously, the fist thoughts are not that there are other people on the island, and wild pigs to catch and eat, too, but "     BACON! "

Then...  " Poisoned bacon!"

[Chinaren]

Mmm, that's given me an interesting idea Saint.  Good work 

Right, it's 6pm on Friday, so time to crack open a tin of liquid inspiratium and get to writing the next chapter.   

See you in a thousand words or so...

 

[Chinaren]

...and Done!



The Story so far:
 Ian has awoken on a desert island after somehow surviving a horrific plane crash.  Stumbling through the jungle he meets Brad, and the two then discover a mysterious half buried orb like structure. 
Leaving the thing unopened, they return to the beach and settle down to rest, but sometime in the night, Ian wakes and finds Brad has disappeared. 
Going in search of his missing comrade, he runs in to a young girl who seems to be unable to speak.  Venturing further he encounters the remains of the orb, which has apparently exploded.  In the remaining crater is a small box, inside which is a strange black egg.
The egg cracks and some kind of pink work crawls up Ian and into his ear, whereupon he faints and wakes up to find Brad eating the last rasher of bacon.


~

“I still can't believe you ate the last slice of bacon!”  Ian stalked awkwardly along the beach, his face set in a frown as the hot sun beat down upon his head.  He’d be red later for sure. 

“And I still can’t believe you’re worried about the bacon and not some giant snake wiggling about inside your head, though no doubt there’s plenty of room in there,” retorted Brad.  “What do you say A?”

The young girl nodded gravely in way of a reply.  She’d still said nothing, and attempts to illicit more information, such as where she’d come from, had resulted in stony silence.

“I don’t see what I can do about that, other than what we’ve tried already,” Ian said.  “So there’s no point in worrying any further.”  He swung his shoes by the laces, he’d taken them off again, and grimaced at the memory of his attempts to extract the strange worm.

After waking up properly, he’d had spent several minutes running around in circles panicking, before calming down enough to explain the situation to Brad. 

After that they’d tried poking his ear with a stick, holding him under the water (that had been Brad’s idea, and Ian still wasn’t certain that he’d not been doing it for fun), and getting Brad to shake his head violently.  The only thing that had resulted was a headache.  Ian had vetoed other ideas, including the one with a knife, and so they’d given up and set off to see what was causing the smoke they could see in the distance.   

“I just don’t see what else we can do,” he repeated, trying to push the thoughts of bacon out of his mind. 

“There’s always…”

“And no, I’m not letting you loose on my head with a knife.”  Ian interrupted Brad’s suggestion. 

“I minored in medicine,” Brad said.  “You’ll be fine.”

“Not even if the sun goes dark,” was Ian’s final answer on the matter.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind.” 

Ian took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow.  He pulled a scavenged towel from a bag he’d recovered from the crash and wrapped it round his head, turban like, in an attempt to keep the sun off.  They’d decided to take some supplies with them, just in case.  Ian didn’t want to think of what ‘just in case’ would be, considering what he’d already been through, but that didn’t make the idea any worse.

They plodded on, walking along the beach with only the sound of the waves to keep them company.  The whole scene was surreal, and Ian wondered if he was having some sort of wild nightmare.  It would certainly explain a few things.  Maybe he was still on board the flight, snoring in his seat in an alcohol induced coma.  One could only hope.

“How far is this damned smoke anyway,” he said, after they’d walked for what seemed to be hours.  He shaded his eyes and scanned the area ahead.  The smoke was till there, drifting up into sky, marring the uninterrupted blue.  It didn’t seem to be as strong as before.  Maybe the fire, whatever, was going out.

“I don’t think we’re far now,” Brad said.  “I’d say it was on the beach too, or near at least.”

“Oh do you?”  Ian replied.  He was becoming annoyed with the other man’s know it all attitude.  “I suppose you majored in ‘stranded on desert island’ did you?”

“I’ve done army survival courses,” Brad explained, unperturbed. 

“Of course you have,” muttered Ian.

“Special forces,” Brad added, rubbing it in. 

Ian didn’t rise to the bait, instead he looked over at A.  The young girl was marching on stoically.  “Are you alright A?  Hungry?  Thirsty?”

A shook her head gravely and carried on walking. 

“Where did you say you came from again?” Ian asked.

She smiled at him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”  Ian took a deep breath and fell silent as the trio marched onwards.  His mind wandered back to the bacon that Brad had stolen from him, and he scowled to himself.  He knew that the others thought him mad, but he really liked bacon, and the chances of them getting any more on this forsaken place were slim to nothing.  It was heartbreaking.  Of course the worm thing in his head was a worry too; it may be devouring his brain even now.  All the more reason to be upset about the last bacon he’d never eat. 

“There!”  Brad’s exclamation interrupted his pork related regrets.  He squinted along the beach, to see a small black mound ahead, near the tree line.

“Looks like a campfire,” Brad said.  “Maybe there were other survivors after all.” 

They quickened their pace, hurrying towards this unexpected sign of life.

“Is that…?”  Ian frowned as they neared.

“I believe it is,” Brad answered.  “You may get your bacon after all.”

The fire, for that was what it was, smoldered underneath an improvised spit.  Stuck on the spit, in an almost stereotypically perfect image, was a pig, or possibly a wild boar, considering they were on an island in the middle of nowhere.

They approached and examined the scene more carefully.  The boar glistened in the sunlight, and Ian considered the possibility he may taste pork one final time before his brain was eaten.

The cook though, was absent.  There were signs of activity nearby – marks in the sand, a small pile of reserve wood for the fire, and a couple of boulders that were just about the right size to sit on.  Apart form that, nothing.

“Curious,” Brad said, poking about in the sand.  He bent down and scraped about in one spot.

“Now I suppose you’re going to use your ranger tracking skills?” Ian said.

Brad stood up and smiled at him.  “And why would I do that?  Whomever cooked up this fine pig is bound to be back.  They’re probably just off gathering dessert.”  He sat down on one of the boulders.  “Hey, turn the spit a bit would you?  We don’t want it to get burned on one side.”

“Sho’ thing masser,” Ian said, touching his forelock.  Still, he shambled over to the fire and carefully turned the cooking animal.  His mouth watered at the smell.

A sat on the other stone, and the two looked on as Ian fiddled with the meal, trying to ensure the thing was cooking evenly. 

“How do we know if it’s done?” he asked, after a few moments.  “It looks done to me.”

“I don’t know how long it’s been cooking,” Brad said.  He stood up again and examined the fire more closely.  Then he straightened up and looked around at the tree line.  “Strange,” he muttered.

“What?” asked Ian.

“Nothing.  Well, nothing beyond the obviously unlikely chance of finding a roasting boar on an apparently deserted desert island.”  He gave Ian a sidewise glance. 

“What?” asked Ian again.  “You think I dialed one eight hundred cook-pig and ordered this?  As far as I’m concerned this is just one more weird thing to happen to me since I woke up.  It’s rapidly getting to be a list.”

Brad pursed his lips.  “I’m going to look around.  I think the boar is ready.  Cut it up and leave me some.”

“Yeah, I’m going to eat whole roast boar and leave you nothing,” Ian said.  “Even though you do deserve it.”  A thought occurred.  “Hey, we don’t have any plates, or anything to cut with.”

Shaking his head, Brad took out a large knife from his back.  “Use this,” he said.

“Holy shit!” Ian exclaimed.  “Where did you get that from?”

“The wreck.  I figured it may come in handy.”

“Yeah, well.”  Ian took the thing.  “Still no plates.”

“What do I look like?  Walmart?”  Brad answered.  “Get some big leaves from somewhere, use them.”

“Oh, good idea.” 

“I’ll be back,” was Brad’s only reply.  With that Terminator line he stomped off up the beach and disappeared into the trees, glancing down at the ground occasionally.

Ian looked at A, who raised her eyebrows. 

He gestured at the boar with the knife.  “Shall I be mother?”

~

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that was so good!”  Ian clutched at his stomach and sighed contentedly.  Sitting in the sand nearby, A emulated his pose.

“Who’d have thought that pig could taste so wonderful?  I think we make a good team,” Ian said.  “Give me five.”  He raised his hand, but the girl just looked at him blankly, and he sighed and lowered it again. 

“Well, it was still good pig,” he said.  He looked at the butchered animal that was still roasting over the fire.  “And I’m glad you knew how to carve.  Where did you learn that?”

A smiled. 

“Never mind.  You did a good job.  Just don’t tell Brad okay?  Speaking of which, where is the annoying turd?  He should be back by now.” 

Ian stood, slowly, up and looked towards the jungle.  It had been at least an hour, probably more, since the other man had disappeared into the undergrowth.  He hoped nothing had happened to him; Brad had half the supplies in his bag.

Even as he scanned the area there was a distinct rustle in a bush nearby. 

“Brad, is that you?” he called. 

There was no answer, but the bush moved again.  There was definitely someone, or something, there.

“Brad?”  Ian bent down and recovered the knife.  “Is that you?”


>>>>>>

Interesting developments!  So, who, or what is in the bushes?  Or do they not find out?  And where’s Brad?

Questions questions. ..

<<<<<<

[Saint]

Why, it's Brad, of course!  And he brings a panicky warning that "under no circumstance should they eat the pi- oops".

[Chinaren]

Why, it's Brad, of course!  And he brings a panicky warning that "under no circumstance should they eat the pi- oops".

 

[Thunderbird]

Good reply there Saint 

Alright, caught up.  I won't go into details on the few mistakes I saw along the way, though I think in the chapter before this one (or maybe another back further), you called Ian Rob (or maybe I just read it wrong...).  Great sense of humor, as always C'ren.  I really liked the Egbert bit.

These sorts of DPs are difficult for me though.  I get a nebulous sense of drifting along in a story without direction.  I'm mostly looking forward to seeing what the worm is all about.  Reminds me of Kinetika... and as a result MW... and all the crazy stuff that comes with those memories.  Anyhow,  sorry... getting a little here.

So... I say they're about to discover a new character entirely.  Perhaps someone who has been here for a lot longer, like maybe 'A' 's older brother (who can talk).  He's probably become a bit paranoid during his isolation and currently has Brad hanging from tree by his ankles.  (Which he intends for Ian as well of course... the punishment for stealing his food!)  Would explain why A was clever with cutting up the meal...

[Chinaren]

get a nebulous sense of drifting along in a story without direction.

Oh I've worked out a plotline here, never fear!  How we get there is another matter.  We're about on target so far tho.

you called Ian Rob (or maybe I just read it wrong...).

Damn, I thought I'd caught all those.  Yes, for about a chapter and a half I was calling Ian Rob for some reason.

New character.  Mmm, interesting twist there.  I like it. 

[Chinaren]

Very well, as I want to ensure this one keeps going, the poll is up!  

Consume the pig of voting.